Butterfly Dance
by troubadour12
Summary: A breather between stories to get past annoying writer's block. Amy's out for a walk in the park when she sees a butterfly. Does it symbolize something else entirely? One-shot. Bit long, actually.


**Challenge #2  
Dancing Queen**

INFO: For this story, I want you guys to first have some knowledge of the song "Dancing Queen" by ABBA. In this story, the plot is pretty subtle. And the theme? Dancing.

NEEDED:  
- Amy dancing, of course. Ian could too.  
- Dew on the grass. Such a beautiful scene…  
- Reference to the scene in the third 39 Clues story, where Amy was twirling at Allistair's house. If you need help on this part, PM me and I'll tell you the pages to refer to.  
- A butterfly.

NO-NOs:  
- No lyrics flying about. This is NOT a songfic, even if I said to refer to the song.  
- No using of the quote "Dance with me". But she could gesture for him to dance with her, she just can't use that quote.  
- No cell phones, laptops, or electronic devices.  
- Amy or Ian or whoever can't touch the butterfly. Meaning they can't hold it in the palm of their hand.  
- No use of rain – Amy cannot be dancing in the rain.

******

Amy didn't know what she was expecting to find when she got home. Nellie cooking in the kitchen like she always did? Unlikely, since she was off to the Bahamas, a trip Dan and Amy had to force her into. Well, not really force. Nellie had been all for it when they'd told her. Dan wasn't lounging in front of the TV, either. After all, he was in some arcade, out hanging with his friends. She hoped that he'd remember to bring home food. Amy knew next to nothing about cooking; the best she could do was whip up some eggs, and she really wasn't in the mood for eggs at the moment.

That very long narration aside, Amy was totally alone in the apartment.

"Great. Even a person needs some company once in a while, you know?" she ranted to no one in particular. It was met by silence. With a huff, she left her bag on an armchair and headed for her room to change out of the skirt and blouse she'd worn all day into a comfortable shirt and pants.

Now wishing that she hadn't done her homework in advance, Amy stomped around for a book. There were hundreds of them lining the shelves---well, not really hundreds, but you get the point---and she began to browse a little. But maybe reading them for about ten times each wasn't a good idea because not one book interested her.

This was turning out to be a very bad day. Amy had never thought that such a day would come, with no Nellie and no Dan, and no particular inclination to read a book. Sighing, she turned on a TV, flipped through the cartoons Dan was so fond of watching to a sitcom. Just as she was settling down to watch, the power shut off.

"Argh!" She threw her hands up in complete frustration. "What do you want me to do? Sleep? Is this even real?!"

No, Amy, it's not, but that's not the point.

"Fine," she growled. "I see you're very determined to push me out the door. Might as well, anyway, before I lose my sanity."

Grabbing the keys, she went out, locking the door behind her. The day was sunny, the streets bustling with people walking to and fro, and Amy was alone. She stood there at the doorstep for a while. Then she headed for the only place she really knew well enough to go, aside from the library: the park. Hands in pockets, she began to walk, invisible in the crowd.

The park held a variety of people. Amy stepped over checked picnic blankets, avoided screaming little children with harried mothers chasing after them, and generally tried to not stand out. The breeze was gentle, and her untied hair was swept along with it. She sat on a fairly empty patch of grass underneath a tree, looking straight ahead. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but somehow she felt peaceful. Calm after so many years.

She didn't really know why, but suddenly she was remembering a different time in a much more different place. Surrounded by people and yet she had felt as if she was free, taking off her shoes and, despite her aching ankle, twirled. Laughed like there was no tomorrow. Smiled like there was no danger.

A rare, beautiful memory that had soon been eclipsed by uglier happenings she didn't even want to think about.

She wondered if she could ever reclaim that feeling once again.

Amy stood up. Too many memories. Too many thoughts. Too many moments surging up to the surface.

A butterfly fluttered past, wings a pure shade of white, save for the speckles of black. It seemed to beckon to her. Telling her something. For a reason she didn't even know herself, she began to chase after it.

It swooped down flowers, flew a twisting and turning route that made no sense. Amy ran after it, continued running after it, and then suddenly, suddenly she wasn't running anymore. She was dancing.

Dancing to the butterfly's rhythm. To the beat of her own freedom. A bubble of laughter escaped her, and it was like that moment years ago, twirling amongst the blades of grass, sparkling with dew. Her shoes were off, she was dancing barefoot, she was laughing, she was smiling, she was savoring the feel of the sun's rays on her skin, and then suddenly a pair of arms was holding her, leading her, dancing with her. Something felt off about this, it wasn't quite like the scene years ago, and she was lifted up. Lifted up so she could see Ian's face, that same old smirk, that same pair of amber eyes.

"Hello, love," he said.

The laughter suddenly stopped. Amy couldn't see the butterfly. Her smile faded, replaced by what she was sure was a look of shock.

Ian set her down gently. _Gently. _That word, that adjective didn't belong here. She was looking at a shark.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other," he said. His gaze was as steady as ever.

"I'll say," Amy replied coolly. _Take an inch, run a mile. _

He frowned. "Why the need for defensiveness? We've put it all behind us, haven't we?"

_Did we? _"I don't recall anything of the sort. Care to do it now?" Amy sarcastically offered her hand.

He stared at it for a while, then reached out to raise her face. "You've changed," he said quietly, and for a moment he almost looked…_sad._ But then the smirk returned and he removed his hand. "We all have, though, I'd wager."

"Let's get to the point."

"The point being…?"

"For instance, why you're here. I'm sure you didn't stop by for a friendly neighborhood visit. You live in London, after all." Amy glared at him.

He waved a hand airily. "London, Venice, New York…"

Amy lifted an eyebrow and began to walk away. "If you won't bother answering my question, then I'll not bother myself with staying here in your presence." She picked up her shoes and stuffed her feet into them. "Nice meeting you around, Kabra."

A hand shot out, gripping her arm tightly and pulling her back. "That hurt!"

"Not as much as your comment did, I daresay," he replied.

She gaped up at him, mouth open, aghast. And then fury rose up, and she exploded. "Well, forgive me for hurting your feelings, my Lord. Even if it's no less than you deserve. Even if you hurt me so much more. Even if I don't really know what else to say after all those years---all those years of loving you and hating you for it, all those years of resentment, all that pain I had to go through, just seeing you with someone else. God, pardon me if I can't help inflicting wounds, then." Amy took a shuddering breath and realized, to her horror, she was crying. She turned her face away from him. "I don't think I need to explain myself to you. It's been three years, Ian. No use pretending that what's broken can be repaired."

His voice was devoid of its hypnotic quality when he spoke. "I hurt you that much…didn't I?" He shook his head. "No, I ought not ask. I know just how damage I've done. It's in who you are, Amy. I see you now, and I see your tears, and I can't forgive myself for all the crimes I've committed. Please…would you please not turn me away? Just this once? I swear, I'll go after I say what I came here for."

Amy considered this for a moment. Then she unwillingly faced him. "Shoot."

He smiled. "Thank you. Now, where to begin?" He seemed to think for a moment. "Just whatever pops out of my mouth, I guess." He gestured at the ground. "Want to sit?"

Amy just waited.

"Ah, well…I see you're not really in the mood, so I'll make this short. I believe you remember that day at Alistair's mansion? Well, not really a mansion, strictly speaking, it's only a little bigger than your average house…"

Amy glowered at him. Ian was unaffected.

"I saw you dancing in the lawn, out of the blue. Just…As if there was no one around, and you were so happy. That was when you captured my attention. It was understandable that I would later regret sealing you in the cave. You have to believe that."

"Out of the question," Amy said.

Ian sighed. "No matter. But if only you knew, Amy Cahill, how taken I was by the girl dancing in the lawn. If only you knew I would have given anything to keep you safe. If only you knew how much I hated the fact that I couldn't. If only you knew how much it pained me to always hurt you and your brother. If only I could forget that expression on your face when I left you…in that cave to die."

"No, I don't know. And I don't really see what this has to do anything."

"Amy, it has everything to do with this moment. It is the reason I'm here now. Because I knew then that I loved you. And I still do."

You could almost hear a pin drop. Amy's response was incredulous. "Ian, did you just mistake me for a sappy romance novel?"

Ian was offended. "I am not a sap," he argued.

"Are too."

"We're not kids anymore."

"Who said we were?"

"Amy," Ian said.

"Yes?"

"I think you're toying with me."

"That makes no sense. You're not a toy. Or do you have some kind of clockwork at the back?"

"Did you hear what I just said a while ago?"

"About your not being a toy? Yep."

"Here I am, telling you I love you, and you respond by making fun of me," Ian chuckled. "That's one thing I adore about you."

Amy's heart began to ache. "Ian, don't. Don't tell me these lies. I…I don't think I can handle it."

"I'm not lying. For once in my life, I actually speak the truth, and you still don't think I am?"

"Don't speak in circles."

"I'm not."

"Just…Just leave me alone, okay? I don't want to raise my hopes up. I don't really think I can handle it." The look she gave him was pleading.

Ian held on to her for a moment. And then he bent down, Amy closed her eyes, as he---

---as he kissed the top of her head.

"What does it take to convince you that I'm no longer your enemy?" he asked.

Amy didn't answer. Her heart was beating too fast.

Ian stepped away, eyes unfathomable. And then he held out his hand. "One last dance?"

Amy balled her hands in fists. Then she relaxed and placed her hand in his. "Why not?"

Dancing. Just dancing. Enough to communicate feelings of love. Enough to forget the past and live in today. Enough to accept what was truly meant to be.

Enough to forgive the transgressions of another.

As Ian lifted her again, Amy felt so _wonderful. _Alive.

He was still waiting for her answer.

One last dance. One last chance. Maybe she could give it to him…?

_One last chance._

Amy leaned down to kiss him.

As she did so, a butterfly rose to the heavens.


End file.
